


before we turn into a monster (with two heads)

by eroticgropefest (goldfishsunglasses)



Series: better than fighting [3]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Arguing, Awkward Conversations, M/M, Not really though, like the slightest bit of smut, more of a mention really, so minor angst?, stupid boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfishsunglasses/pseuds/eroticgropefest
Summary: Simon wants to sleep with Baz. Really, he does. He's just...not ready yet.





	

**Simon**

“Have you and Micah had sex yet?”

Penny doesn’t flinch. Not that I expected her to. Our “no secrets” pact means we’ve had a lot of awkward conversations over the years, and her not telling me this means she was just waiting until I was comfortable to ask. Or something.

Probably.

Hopefully, or else I’ve just done something extraordinarily stupid.

She’s quiet, and I start to panic until I realize she’s laughing. Silently. She notices me staring and a very un-Penny-like giggle escapes.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me about this.”

“Are you really surprised?”

“No. I’ve been expecting it actually

“Oh.” Of course she has. “So...do you have like, tips...or pointers, or…”

“Anal sex is different, Simon.” She says matter-of-factly.

“Christ, Penny, do you have to say it so--besides, I know that.” I do know that. That’s not what I want to know. I want to know--Merlin, I don’t know what I want to know. Hopefully Penny does.

“Simon, are you scared?”

“Not scared...just nervous. And...maybe...a little scared.” I admit, because this is Penny, and Penny won’t judge me. She sets her notebook down and I lean into her. This position is more awkward than it used to be, but honestly we’ve both become so used to these wings. I don’t think Penny notices half the time when she’s against one, or if she does, she never says anything. Intentional or not, it’s nice. Not because I want to forget the wings are there, no. But because they didn’t change us. We’re still Simon and Penny. Penny and Simon. Just with a little extra. Besides, wings and a tail are nothing compared to the emotional baggage and trauma sure to weigh us down for the rest of our lives.

I’m joking.

I think.

“The two of you need to talk about this. It’s all well and good to discuss it with a mate--” She says, and I snort, because it’s weird to think of Penny as a “mate”, she’s just...Penny. She pokes me with her pen for interrupting her, and I try to look apologetic as she continues. “Baz needs to know what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. He _is_ your boyfriend, after all.”

I sigh as she nudges me off and returns to her work. I _should_ talk to him about this. I need to talk to him about this. I have to talk to him about this. I’ll do it soon. Tomorrow even. Tomorrow’s too soon. Maybe the day after. Maybe we don’t even need to talk about this. Maybe we can just do it, just get it over with and everything will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

Right?

***

**Baz**

We’re snogging on the couch. Fiona’s away again. It feels like she’s always away. Off on some mission, working to rid the world of vampires (“Except one”, she always says. _Except two_ , I always think). It’s starting to feel like this is _my_ flat. Not that I mind. Not when it means I’m free to kiss my boyfriend anytime I want. Anywhere I want. Which usually ends up being this couch. Which seems bloody stupid when there’s a perfectly good bed in the next room, but Simon’s not comfortable with that. Does it bother me sometimes? That we move at snail’s pace? Of course it does. Does it bother me that Simon won’t talk to me about this? That it feel’s like he’s making all the decisions here? Of fucking course it does. Will I say anything about it? Of course I won’t.

Especially not right now, when he’s kissing my neck like that, all wet and filthy. He’s straddling me, and holding my shoulders so tightly that I’m sure I’ll bruise. _Can_ I bruise right now? I suppose I can. I’ve got enough blood in me that...

Oh, _Crowley_. I feel Simon’s hard cock brush mine. It feels amazing, and I don’t want it to stop, but I know we’re going to. That’s usually the signal, and I start to push him away, but then he does it again. And again. And _again_. I reach for him. He stills. I immediately know I’ve done the wrong thing.

Have I though?

I push him away for real this time. Not hard, but definitely with more force than necessary. He looked wounded.

“Baz?” He asks, and I look away. _“Baz.”_ He tries again. “Are you mad at me?”

I sigh. I can’t help it. “I thought we were actually going to...you know…”

“What? Have sex?” He laughs, and it comes out sounding nervous. “Shag our brains out? Bonk? Is that what you want?”

“Well, yes, actually.”

“I told you, I want to. I’m just--”

“Not ready. I know. Trust me, _I know._ ”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I just--”

“You just what? Just want me? Well since you’re so eager to live out those fifth year fantasies, why don’t you just go ahead and fuck me then? That’s what you want, right? To fuck me? Christ, Baz, sometimes I think that’s all you want!”

Simon looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really meant for the words to come out. But they’re out now, and he can’t take them back. Even without magic behind them, words still have power. And these ones hurt.

Merlin, they hurt.

“Sometimes I think you _like_ toying with me like that. Makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? Like you’ve still got something over me. Well, you don’t. You’re not the chosen one anymore. You don’t even have _magic_ anymore. But I do. _And I think you’re jealous_.”

Fucking hell, why did I say that?

Simon makes that face he does when he’s trying to think of a comeback. (It’s sort of adorable, but I’m not going to tell him so.) I should have known this was coming. Sometimes when we fight, it’s like we’re back at Watford, pre-truce and pre- _this_ , and any argument devolves into petty insults and name-calling and trying our damnedest to hurt the other person the most.

It’s fucked up.

As if on cue, Simon snaps. “You think I’m _jealous_?”

“Of course? Why wouldn’t you be? I’ve always been better than you at everything, remember? Even your girlfriend wanted me instead of you.”

“At least I’ve _had_ a girlfriend.”

“Are you stupid? I’m _gay_.”

 _“So am I!”_ He yells, then pauses and whispers. “I think...”

“You _think_? Crowley, Snow, have you still not figured it out?” Why did I say that? Why can’t I stop talking? Why did I have to say that?

“Listen, fang face--”

_“Fang face?”_

“Yes, fang face.”

“I can’t believe you just called me fang face.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but I cut in before he has a chance.

“Personally I would have gone with something like ‘bloodsucker’ Or maybe ‘you monster’, or even _‘vampire’_. But _fang face_? You could have said literally anything else and you went for ‘fang face’. Eloquent as always, Snow.” I can’t help but sneer as I say it. Old habits die hard.

He’s trying so hard to keep a straight face, but then I snort, and so does he, and then we’re laughing. Loudly. Full belly laughs that never seem to end.

When they finally do, we’re both on the floor, cross-legged and facing each other.

“We can’t keep doing this.” Simon says quietly, and suddenly it feels like all the air has been knocked out of me. He’s not...we’re not...he doesn’t mean…

“This? As in...us?”

Simon must have realized what he said, because he quickly sits up.

“No, no. _No._ I just mean...fighting like this...it’s not healthy.

“If you expect us to ever be one of those emotionally healthy couples” I say, “then I have bad news.”

He frowns at this. “No, but I want us to _try._ ”

“Snow--”

“So I’m Snow again?”

“You’ve always been Snow.”

“What if I don’t want to be snow?”

“ _Crowley_. Fine. Sn-- _Simon_.”

“Yes?”

I...I want you to understand. This isn’t just…” I don’t know how to phrase it. “I--I want to share this with you. I want to...I want to give--” He blushes, catching on. I continue. “I want to give myself to you. I love you. So much. And I want to show you.”

“With sex?”

“No, with a garden of bloody roses! Yes, with sex.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that. Or at all, really. I don’t really think--”

“When do you ever?” I say, but I’m smiling, and he smiles back, and we’re laughing again, and it feels so good. He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine.

“I love you.” He says.

“I know.” That usually gets me a grin, at least. But not right now. At some point during this conversation he must have grabbed my hands, because they’re in his, and he’s squeezing them gently. I squeeze back.

“And I want you to show me you’re serious.”

“Anything.” I suspect what he’s going to say next.

“My next session is in two days…”

And I’m right.

I don’t mind though. I meant what I said. Anything. For him, anything.

Even _therapy._

***

**Baz**

For Simon to trust me, I have to prove that I trust him enough to talk about my...feelings.

I’ve never been particularly good at that. Feelings. I spent so much time hiding them, especially the one’s towards Simon. Crowley, it still feels strange to be able to feel the way I do and actually be able to _tell him._

I love him, and he loves me. He tells me often. It’s the one phrase he never stumbles over.

So when Simon presses the call button, I find that the Numpty-sized lump in my throat is gone. In it’s place was a surge of affection for Simon. My _boyfriend_. My boyfriend, Simon. Who’s been through so much, and has enough sense to realize he couldn’t bear the burden on his own. Who, despite my protests, knows I need this just as much as him. Who is absolutely worth waiting for. Who is the bravest. And the strongest. And the best. And who is _mine_.

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr ( ﾉ ^ヮ^ )ﾉﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ](http://eroticgropefest.tumblr.com/post/151937923927/before-we-turn-into-a-monster-with-two-heads)


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